


Soulmates

by orphan_account



Category: The Beatles
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 06:48:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5818306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In an AU where numbers on your wrist count down the days left until you meet your soulmate, Paul and George meet. MCHARRISONNNNNNNNNN!!!! :D</p>
            </blockquote>





	Soulmates

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own the Beatles (which is heartbreaking in itself) and neither do I own the idea ... I got it off another fic or a prompt or something like that :) In fact I own absolutely nothing ... Though the writing IS mine :D enjoyy

Paul McCartney hadn't looked at the numbers on his wrist in years. After a while, they had ceased to mean anything at all, just a ticking as they counted down the interminable days which seemed to stretch on forever. 

He had 10 minutes until he met his soulmate but Paul McCartney didn't know, 

How could he? 

.

George Harrison giggled at the girl on his right, smile like the sun, eyes bright. He liked her, he knew. He liked her more than he really should, and he knew that she liked him, but he had realised, years ago when they began their relationship, that it would never last. She understood this too. But at that point the numbers at the base of his hand had said 3 years, which seemed ages away, and hers 24 so they'd agreed to give it a go, and if they were still going strong when he met his, they would break it off. 

George hadn't looked since that day. He hadn't wanted to. But he really knew he should have done.

.

Paul stepped into the vinyl shop, sighing as the familiar smell of music sleeves and cigarette smoke wrapped its arms around him and embraced him. It was almost his favourite place in the world here. He never really wanted to leave. 

Scanning the shelves, he began to browse. Elvis, the Who, the Stones, Chuck Berry ... You got all the good stuff in a shop like this, with the rows upon rows of priceless vinyl albums beckoning to you from all areas of the room. The man at the counter smiled at him as he picked up a previously unreleased recording from Jerry Lee Lewis selling at £240. Paul smiled back. Like he had that sort of money. 

He handed it to the man to play anyway, noting the thick gold band on his ring finger which told that he had met his match. Paul had given up years ago on that sort of thing. He didn't really care anymore. 

.

George wrapped his arm tight around her shoulders as they walked, talking about nothing in particular in the warm sunlight of the day. He had chosen this route in particular. 

Upon arriving at the certain shop he wanted, they stopped, the girl smiling knowingly as she looked up at the peeling gold letters of the sign telling that they were outside 'Bernies LP's' and that George wanted to go in. 

She obliged, and they entered. 

.

The bell tinkled as someone arrived behind Paul's back but he didn't look up. The record was still playing and now he was looking at another one, this time as a slightly more reasonable price of £12 for a new album from the Kinks which he desperately wanted but doubted he could stretch so far as to actually purchase. He was just contemplating removing Jerry Lee Lewis and replacing it with this one instead when a low voice by his ear made him jump. 

'Face to face ... It's good.' 

He spun round, and upon doing so found himself staring at a man with warm brown eyes and a shock of dark hair which passed his forehead in a long fringe. At the same time, his left hand seemed to catch on fire. 

.

George gasped at the sudden lump in his throat as their eyes met. He had been holding hands with his girlfriend before. Now he could feel his grip releasing slightly. 

She turned, an unknowing smile on her face as she held Bob Dylan's new single and offered it to him, before her face fell and her eyes began to flit between the two men, watching their gaze. The arm holding the disk fell, forgotten. She waited for words.

.

Paul felt like his heart was about to explode. His wrist was so painful and his eyes so wide that he felt as though he had to look away but couldn't quite muster up the willpower to do so, for this was far and away the most exciting thing that had ever happened in his whole life, though he didn't understand quite what was going on. At this point, he wasn't taking into account that this stranger could be his soulmate. He merely thought he was gazing into the eyes of the most attractive person ever to walk the planet. 

As he stared, the Jerry Lee Lewis track ended and the needle began to scratch the record. The shop owner didn't stop it. He had never witnessed anything quite like this second hand. 

.

The girl gulped hard into the near silence, mouth forming a thin line as she watched the interaction between her boyfriend and this man, the air thick and heavy between them, their eyes still linked. She didn't think they were ever going to speak. It seemed entirely possible that they could just stay like this, frozen in time forever as they stared at the other and the world moved on and people lived their lives as they looked and looked and looked at the person opposite them and she watched. 

Sighing through her nose, she replaced the Bob Dylan record on its stand. 

The silence blared on. 

.

George could sense it somewhere in his gut that this was the one. That /he/ was the one. He was the most perfect, beautiful, stunningly attractive person he had ever seen and George would have been perfectly content just to stand here and stare for the rest of his life if he hadn't wanted to run away with this man, far off to the hills and beyond and never come back. He would be perfectly content just to remain in this spot forever more if his heart wasn't screaming to be in the company of the other, his hands not yearning to intertwine, his lips not craving to be kissed. He wanted his soulmate more than he had wanted anything else in the world. 

After what seemed like hours, he cleared his throat, the noise grating like a knife into the stifling silence of the shop. The eyes of the other man widened slightly, and George felt his breath hitching up, words dying on his lips the second he thought of them. He didn't look away.

.

Paul wanted to speak but he couldn't. He wasn't sure that his voice worked anymore. It wasn't that he had nothing to say either; he just couldn't formulate the sentence. And anyway, words had the potential to ruin everything. 

.

'You're my soulmate.' 

The words weren't voluntary but they came, appearing unbidden from the stagnant air and coming to fruition before them, blooming like a flower and making the girl behind George and the boy in front of him blink in apparent surprise. George had thought it was obvious.

'You're my soulmate,' he repeated, and finally he broke the gaze to look down at his wrist. It said 00:00:00:00:00.

He beamed, and his eyes met the other boy's once more.

'You're my soulmate.' 

.

Paul almost did a double take as he stared at the man for a different reason now, his heart suddenly in his mouth. Soulmate. That wasn't a word he'd heard for a long time, not since his mother had died. He and his brother had tried to scribble each other's numbers out when they were 15; the universe didn't work like that, and that's just the way it was. His father had met his and fallen in love and she had been snatched from him by way of the word, whilst Mike's numbers had always read 199:00:00:00:00 so it was pretty obvious he wasn't meeting /his/ match anytime soon. And Paul? Paul had forgotten the age at which he was meant to meet his. But he was sure it couldn't be /this/. This perfect, /perfect/ man standing in front of him. 

'I'm ... I'm sorry?' 

The boy before him smiled self-consciously, eyes flicking down to the floor and back up again, stepping intuitively forwards and muttering the fateful words once more, lips curving up in reflexive joy. 'You're ... You're the one.' 

Paul felt his mouth drop open.

.

Grinning slightly now, George reached forwards, his hand tentatively stretching out to touch the other man's, eliciting a barely audible intake of breath from said figure, fingers curling round his slim wrist, bringing it up. The numbers matched his own. 00:00:00:00:00. 

'Oh.' 

It wasn't really a word, just a ... Just a sigh from his /soulmate/ as he raised doe-eyes to meet George's own and began to smile back. George beamed, biting his lip slightly.

'I'm George.' 

.

Paul gulped, his own smile moulding his face into a beacon of light as he watched GEORGE and continued to watch. The record was still scratching as he moved forwards and took the other boy's hand in his own, fingers intertwining like they had meant to be there all his life. And then, suddenly and completely without warning, his emotions took absolute control of his body and he flung his arms around his soulmates neck, wrapping him in a hug.

'My name's Paul.' 

He could feel George hugging him back and he beamed. 

His soulmate.

It sounded nice. 

It sounded nice.


End file.
